


GGRKS

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Series: cookiethelion's a Fanfiction Cheapskate [2]
Category: British Comedian RPF, Pappy's RPF, Vocaloid
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Fourth Wall, M/M, Matthew is a tsundere, Meta, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an extension of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/346735">Go Google It</a> drabble.<br/>(You know when you have a sudden urge to write a pairing you normally don't do? That.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	GGRKS

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I would write "Beta'd by Samurottsan" here, but she's taking ages answering back. Nonetheless, I'm happy enough with this piece to let it go on the internet unBeta'd.  
> \----
> 
> I _really_ fancied writing Matthew/Tom all of a sudden (to be honest, they're kind of my guilty pleasure pairing). I suppose it is a bit mean of me not to at least once ship Matthew with another Pappy's member; that said, the only pairing I have left to do is Ben/Matthew, but I really can't see it happening (mind you, I am quite liking the idea of a Colin/Matthew fic, but I don't think I can write it). Anyway, normal Tom/Ben shipping will resume soon, especially since they've declared they're going out with each other in [PBaM 19](http://soundcloud.com/colin-anderson/pbam19) :3
> 
> All the notes from Go Google It applies to this piece as well.

Matthew lowered the cotton wool onto the back of Tom’s hand, dabbing at the three pronged marks that had, a few moments ago, been marked by a patch of blood; the latter winced, and he twitched his fingers. He _would_ have grasped Matthew’s hand (his palm was resting on his, and it had been made clear that that was the only permitted contact) but he caught him peering over the rim of his glasses at him, and he knew to back off.

“Stay _still_ ,” said Matthew through gritted teeth. He was doing it to stay as emotionless as possible; after all, he wasn’t the only person resisting the urge to hold the other man’s hand.

“I’m trying to, but it bloody hurts,” said Tom.

“This is your fault. I warned you, but you chose to ignore me and hug –”

“How was I supposed to know you had a fork?”

“Of course I don’t tell people I have forks hidden in my jumpers, it misses the point as to why they’re there.” Matthew, seeing that the worst of the bleeding had passed, put the wad aside onto the pile of more blood-soaked ones, and then reached into the bag of wool again.

“You never stabbed Clarkey when he tried to hit on you.”

“Unlike you, Ben didn’t try to molest me.” Matthew yanked a fistful of wool out, and pointed it at Tom. “Speaking of Ben, don’t tell him about the forks, alright?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it as our little secret … but c’mon, that hug was quite nice, wasn’t it? … Actually, I’m certain you didn’t stab me for –”

Matthew felt his face glow warm and, hoping that his cheeks weren’t changing colour, he pushed the wool down, using the same amount of force as he had done with the fork. Tom yelped and clenched his hand, thus holding onto Matthew’s; this made the latter even more determined to push down as hard as possible, even though it was now _his_ turn to feel his fingers twitch. In the chaos, he could have held Tom’s hand back and got away with it – but that was going to expose his feelings –

Matthew tried to wriggle his hand out of Tom’s, but it was limp under his hold. He could have been more forceful (Tom wasn’t holding onto him _that_ tightly), but he remained that way until his cheeks were burning, and he flung his hand free.

“Shit…”

As Matthew reached for the bandages, he shifted his grasp so only his fingertips were touching the material. “Don’t … mention it again.”

“Sorry.”

Matthew kept his head down as he bandaged Tom’s hand; he knotted it tighter than he wanted, tugging at the ends before twisting them between his fingers and pulling them on an already tight knot, all while trying to disguise or force his blushes to vanish. He stopped when Tom’s cries were growing too loud; he let go and grabbed his hand, checking for any blood.

“Oh – God – are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Tom paused, watching Matthew inspect his hand closer. He closed his fingers in, brushing his knuckles and the lower half of his fingers; seconds later, Matthew pulled his hands away as he stood up and kicked his chair back.

“Your hand’s fine,” he said. “Don’t move it too much, or it might start bleeding again. I’m going to tidy up.”

He shuffled around, putting the unused materials away before grabbing the dustpan and sweeping the wads into it. He could feel Tom’s eyes following him, and he hurried into the kitchen for the bin; he was going to shut the lid when he noticed he had tipped the scissors in as well. He picked them out and glanced at them; Tom had given them to him about a year ago, and for no reason at all. Even by his standards, it was still an odd gift for a future boyfriend.

He pressed the scissors closer to his chest, forgetting that Tom was sitting outside, or that he had left the door open. He kept thinking back to one question that had stuck with him since it had been first asked a while back…

_“Matthew, who do you like the most?”_

Tom had asked him that ages ago but Matthew, being the tsundere he was, refused to answer. Any subsequent attempts to get the answer out of him resulted in the same result, even when it had been Ben asking. He gripped the handle harder, the colour starting to fade from his knuckles; he can’t have been _that_ uptight, wasn’t it obvious who he liked…?

“Matthew, have you seen the –”

“IDIOT –”

Hearing Tom’s voice at that moment was enough, and he clenched until his knuckles were white before he threw the scissors into the bin.

“My scissors –”

“What – no –”

Matthew stuck his head into the bin and stood in a way that ensured only he could get access in, thus stopping Tom from advancing any further; he fished the scissors out, and when he straightened up again, he dusted them as he shut the lid. He kept turning them over in his hand, making sure they were spotless, all while swearing under his breath.

No sooner had he finished that then did he feel Tom’s hand glide over his back, pulling out what he suspected was the other fork he had hidden in that jumper. As if that wasn’t enough, Tom then cuddled him around the waist again, this time putting his bandaged hand on top of his unhurt one, holding onto Matthew’s weapon.

“Get _off_ me – I’ll –”

Tom waved the fork in front of the shorter man’s face before he tossed it over his shoulder; it landed on the floor and skidded out of reach.

“Don’t … Thomas Parry, don’t you dare –”

Tom picked him up and kissed him on the cheek; Matthew put the scissors down on the counter as a way of distracting himself, but it did nothing to spare him from the heat emitting from his face. He bit his lip, trying to keep his face straight, but by then, he had given away enough to unearth his tough front.

“Not so bad now, is it Crossbow?” Matthew was too flustered to say anything, and Tom put him down. “What’s the matter? You’ve gone really quiet.”

“I wish you’d stop touching me –”

“Is that it?”

“Yes – look, you don’t need to – I’m not going to walk out on you.” He looked up over his shoulder. “What?”

“Someone’s getting sweeter…”

“Look, I wish you’d stop making it so obvious that we’re … you know.”

“We’re what? I don’t think you’ve mentioned it…”

“ _Fine_ , I’m going out with you. I just don’t want to make our relationship public yet, that’s all. I don’t mind if Clarkey knows –” He raised his elbow, stopping Tom’s head from resting on his shoulder. “Just because I said we’re now a couple, it doesn’t mean you can keep touching me.”

“Oh really, Matthew? It didn’t stop me from getting it off with you.”

“It’s not _that_ , I don’t want the fangirls to find out. What if they start writing fanfiction about us?”

“I thought someone already is?”

“So far, she’s been shipping you and Ben, and none involving me, apart from one drabble that everyone appears to have overlooked.”

Tom tightened his hug, and he tilted his head closer to Matthew’s. “Let her ship us … as long as she doesn’t turn it into anything crude.”

“I don’t think she will.” _(Author’s note: I can assure you I won’t ~ Biscuit Lion)_ “Anyway, I think you’ve hugged me long enough. Now can you _please_ let go?”

“It’s a bit soon, isn’t it? Especially if I’m not allowed to touch you when we’re outside…”

“Tom … I’ll make you a deal. If you let go, right, I’ll … I’ll tell people we’re going out. That’s the deal, now will you…?” The more Matthew thought about it, maybe he didn’t _quite_ mind it being known after all…

In response, all Tom did was wrap his arms even harder around his waist.


End file.
